


Voices of Stone

by Effenay



Series: The Mystic Isles Archives [3]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Blood Mages, Blood Magic, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Captive, Endowed, Gen, Gildaar, Mages, Medieval Fantasy, Original work - Freeform, Power Imbalance, Survival, War, blood harvest, medieval dystopia, the reign of kings, the rule of mages
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:40:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27709874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Effenay/pseuds/Effenay
Summary: They say that the endowed was the source of all oppression. That the unendowed have lived in fear of the endowed’s abuse. Had it not been for the new era of mages, it gave rise to an equal opportunity for the unendowed to stand up for themselves.After the fall of the 4th Telenar rule, the land of Gildaar fell into disarray. Forty-five years after their fall, the seat of power remains empty and in its place is a power struggle among the lords who seek to fill the Telenars’ places. Those loyal to the Oracle’s judgement, demanded a proxy government to manage the country’s affairs in accordance to the 3rd Telenar era’s rule. The lords who benefitted from the 4th Telenars’ mage policy wanted to protect the mage system but demanded to rule their fiefs in their own terms. After forty-five years of conflict, the end resulted into a disjointed nation and an era of kings who fought to defend or claim each other’s territories.Amidst the struggle for power, one mage king appointed Telise, a lowly endowed with an important mission to protect his son's life.
Series: The Mystic Isles Archives [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2026688





	1. Chapter 1

1

They say that the endowed was the source of all oppression. That the unendowed have lived in fear of the endowed’s abuse. Had it not been for the new era of mages, it gave rise to an equal opportunity for the unendowed to stand up for themselves.

Before long, the endowed grew scarce in the lands of Gildaar. In the era known as the Reign of Kings; the mages ruled over the states of the broken nation. And in its place, the endowed became every domain’s bane of existence. Such was the education taught among the high ranks of society.

Telise lay there against the cold stone floor, her sunken eyes lidded by her leather-dry eyelids as she listened to the voices of stone. It was the year 45 of the Reign of Kings; to the endowed, they referred this era as the Rule of Mages. To be born endowed was as good as cursed; forever known as a dangerous entity who could abuse their authority over nature out of selfishness. Even the mere endowment of casting light within the palm of one’s hand was enough reason to suspect them.

_“-Invasion… North Kingdom… endowed- hiding…”_

Voices seeped through her mind as she kept her hand on the stained floor; her endowment denying her the luxury of granting her a silent night of rest. For as long as the palm of her hand touched the surface of a stone, the stones tell her what they hear from living things. From the mere shuffling of feet, to the scrapes of carvings, to the small exchanges between officials.

Secrets, rumours, scandals, commands; information was useless for as long as she remained confined within these walls. Her arms were wrapped in strips of rouge-stained fabric; the palms of her hands were lacerated with marred lines of fresh wounds. Telise kept her hand outstretched on the stones, her mind half-wandered into a sleep-like daze while keeping her guard up. The least she could do was to prepare for another summoning.

_“…bring the endowed- will… more blo-”_

She lifted her hands from the stone floor, her connection with the whispers severed. The now, grey-haired endowed sat up, dreading for the worst to come as she sensed the impending footsteps that headed towards her cell.

The weighted door slid open, a strong radiance of light temporary blinding her. Long shadows painted itself across the floor as two figures entered the scene. A female archmagi and an armoured knight approached the grey girl. The knight dragged Telise to her feet; her bony limbs creaked at the mere attempt to hold herself upright. The mere sight of the runes etched on the archmagi’s skin drained all the warmth out of her.

“Hold her down,” the mage unsheathed a chipped blade. “Make sure she doesn’t squirm.”

The knight wordlessly tightened his grip on her bandaged arm; stretching it out to the open air like a loose puppet. Telise no longer harboured any sense of resistance; to be subjugated to these procedures on a day to weekly basis no longer gave her a sense of alarm. All that was left was the pain. The chipped dagger gleamed under the firelight as the mage tore away the bandages from the endowed’s arm. Telise turned her head away, expecting the bite of the blade to pierce the lumps of freshly healed scars.

“Kgh…” the endowed gritted, the unseen deed still brought her that shock of nerves.

The endowed squirmed involuntarily, her chest demanding for mouthfuls of air as she felt the blade bite deeper into her flesh. The knight’s grip tightened to hold her in place. Warmth oozed down her skin; the pressure of the man’s grip prodded her blood to streak along her wounds. Tears welled up her eyes as she heard a stifled chuckle of satisfaction from the mage.

“That’s good, keep her steady like that,” the cruel woman grabbed a wineskin to collect the streaks of red that dripped off of Telise’s arm.

It wasn’t long till the knight loosened his grip, Telise now whimpered when she caught sight of the fresh wound on her forearm.

_How much more will you take from me?_

The endowed sobbed as the mage wore an enthusiastic grin when her blood slowly filled the wineskin.

“Isn’t that too much?” the knight’s voice was softer than what Telise had imagined.

“Endowed blood is a precious commodity. Why not take the full advantage while they’re still alive?”

“It is because the endowed are precious is exactly why you shouldn’t waste any more of them,” -the knight’s eyes pointed towards Telise, then back to the mage- “It’s becoming harder for people to claim themselves endowed nowadays. Better to keep them alive while they’re under our custody.”

“Hush, I’m already finished here,” the archmagi straightened her posture, sealed the wineskin tightly and ran her fingers on the girl’s open wound. With a whisper of a word, a burning pain surged through Telise’s skin, followed by a pin-prick of light that emanated from the mage’s fingertips.

“The wound’s closed now,” the mage shrugged at the sight of the burn that replaced the sliced wound. “Give it two days, it’ll heal itself closed.”

She spun her heel towards the door, a ghost of a smile graced the mage’s lips before she disappeared. The knight released Telise as she felt his eyes on her wounds. The endowed did her best not to look away, shamed and self-pity weighed heavily on her hart. She’d expect the knight to throw snide remarks, or speak jovial words of how far the endowed had fallen.

Instead, the knight left her side, exited the cell, only to come back with a servant.

“Treat her wound,” he ordered. “And replace her old bandages. We don’t want her festering while she’s in our possession.”

The servant wordlessly carried out the order with trembling hands, eyes unfocused as it shifted from Telise to the knight. The grey-haired girl dared to lift her gaze at the night. She expected a sharp, hawk-like stare from the man, only to see eyes that narrowed with ambiguity. His expression was kinder than what she’d expected, but his lips remained in a thin line. The small creases on his forehead hinted him to be a few decades older than her.

After the servant re-bandaged her arms, her left the cell without batting an eye on either of them. Once more, the knight’s gaze trailed over her freshly wrapped limbs and nodded before he left. The door clacked shut behind him, leaving her to languidly sit on the hard floor, wincing at the sting from the newly made scar. Leaning back against the stone wall, she closed her eyes. Not wanting to listen to her own thoughts, she reached for the pouch that lay hidden beneath the straw bed. She loosened its drawstring to let a pebble fall into her hand and listened to the memories of the stone.

Happy voices. Cheers. Singing and hoof-beats of light-hearted steps of a dance. Sounds that spoke of a long-forgotten age when there were no mages, no estranged ties between the endowed and unendowed.

Despite all that the people had said, the endowed were no longer a threat to society. They became the mage lord’s blood banks.


	2. Chapter 2

2

How many days has it been, since she first seen the daylight?

Morning and night, it was hard to tell which one was which. In her wake, her creaking bones trembled in her attempt to sit up from her makeshift bed of straws. Each drawing of blood dulled her senses, as bouts of dizziness and weariness dragged on for longer each time.

_My Lord, do you not see your stewards suffering?_

Telise could barely hold her grip on the pouch that held her precious stone. At some point, she wondered if it was better to die and join the rest of her fellow kin than to continue suffering like this.

Footsteps padded the halls in earnest haste.

“King Parawin, I beseech you! This girl has nothing to-!”

“Unbolt the door.”

“Sir, I-”

“…”

A heavy clang rattled the walls before the door slid open, letting the fire light seep through Telise’s cell. Her bleary vision from all the dizziness only managed to make out a silhouette of a tall, imposing figure, casting his shadows onto her stickly form.

Bearing no strength in her body, her neck creaked as she dared to look at her captor.

“So, what Mashew said was true,” the darkened figure spoke. “Commodity or not, there’s no point in harvesting blood from an endowed when they’re nothing but skin and bones.”

“Sir,” the servant prodded. “You must be mad to entrust an endowed to-”

“Am I not your lord, Benia?” the man tutted. “In my command, you are to forget this meeting.” He stretched out his arm, scarlet runes glowed as his hand fell to the servant’s head. “I ask that you tend to your other duties, in the will of my name.”

The servant’s eyes glowed red as his stance slackened. Like a leaf swayed by the wind, the king directed the servant to disappear from Telise’s sight. Soon after the scarlet runes dimmed, the king knelt down before the weary endowed.

“Endowed child of the southern plains. What is your name?” he commanded.

“…Hh..” Her dried-up tongue and course throat could only make winded noises. “-Se…r…is…”

With his figure casted in shadow, Telise was unable to distinguish the king’s face. Without hesitation, he drew his rune-scarred arms around her back and the back of her knees before he lifted her up. He tutted; “Weighing no more than a bag of bones, hmm.”

The endowed had no strength to refuse him, her mind remained in a slurred daze.

_My… stone…_

Her pouch that carried her precious pebble of memories lay there on the floor. Her bandaged arm flailed pathetically in the air; her parched throat unable to ask for it back. “…hhh…hhhgk…”

She felt the king’s stare down at her and paused. Without a word, he took a step closer towards the pouch and crouched down. With her treasure within an arm’s length, her twig-bone fingers could barely grasp it before she set the pouch on top of her abdomen. The mere weight of the stone resting on her leathery skin brought little comfort to her impending doom.

_If he is… is to have his way… with me… at the very least-_

The least she could hope was to have one last piece of comfort before the worst was to come.

_______

The very moment he realised his ill-born fate, King Parawin knew this was nothing more than a form of punishment from the divine. The endowed in his hands were all but bones wrapped in skin, her sunken eyes closed as she fell asleep in his arms.

All those years ago, since the day the Oracle disappeared, every lord of Gildaar should have known they have been cursed. Divine punishment or not, at the very least, he understood the very actions he took was undoubtedly selfish and hypocritical. After letting his archmagi loose to do his bidding; letting them have their way with the endowed they captured; he knew he had no right to seek help from an endowed now.

_Even if I am to be struck by the Oracle’s staff, I willing to be this shameless for his sake._

The stone corridors felt endless, fearing his own people witnessing this preposterous act he was committing. Apart from Mashew, he could only turn his trust towards a few loyal servants for this scheme. As soon as he left the lower grounds, his trusted few stood around the entrance. The head knight of the court signalled the servants to prepare the materials the king had asked for. Mashew then drew near the king and eyed the endowed in his arms.

“Are you certain she’ll live?” Parawin asked his knight.

“This child has lasted the longest,” Mashew grabbed a cloak from Kale, one of the servants, and covered the endowed’s body before taking her from the king’s arms. “Old Savalin texts often stated that the endowed are those granted with the Oracle’s blessing. I pray that his blessing upon her will continue to protect her from this point onwards.”

Parawin smiled at the irony. “And here we are, a mage kingdom praying for the divine. I doubt we have the right ask for such things.”

Mashew bowed briefly before he carried the girl into the secret chambers alongside the king’s servants. As they dispersed into the distance, Parawin turned his back and headed towards his chambers, his thoughts lingered at the ill-fate that was suddenly brought to him.

______

Water baths. The scent of steam rising. Soft fabrics. The feel of one’s hand combing her hair with a sturdy comb. Sensations of comfort Telise hadn’t felt for so long. Her hazed mind could barely make out the moving silhouettes that fussed around her. She wondered if she had finally lost her senses and fell into the world of dreams.

A warm pair of arms carried her onto a bed, soft tufts of fur caressing her freshly scrubbed skin. The weight of layered fabric that lay on top of her was the last comforting thing she felt before her mind submitted to the haze.

_Oh. I’m back home._

The scent of morning dew wafted to her nose; the small desire to remain in bed during the daylight hours. Her supple skin bathed in sunlight. Telise was home, and all those sunless days of being locked into a cold cellar was no more than a nightmare. She turned to her side and felt her weight sink into a silken bed, making her want to indulge herself into remaining there forever.

She felt someone’s presence standing by the corner of her bed, silently observing her.

_Mother?_

Her mother had always done something like that. Standing by her bedside to watch her until she could verify if Telise had been awake for a long time. Yes, that was something her mother always did whenever she felt like it. Telise took comfort in her mother’s presence, even though she would eventually be scolded for being lazy.

At that moment, she found herself feeling more than grateful to have such small luxuries and decided to try getting up for a change. But all it took was the familiar creaking bones to realise what was happening. Her limbs were too weak to get herself up, her limbs ached with every movement.

_Where…am I?_

The last thing she remembered was the silhouette of a man and the feeling of weightlessness.

The soft bed beneath her.

The scent of sweet Dilla oil that perfumed her hair and clothes.

A stranger’s presence standing by her bedside.

Telise forced herself to get up, her bleary eyes slowly became clearer. It was daylight and there stood a servant watching her keenly. Her parched throat cracked a mild squeak.

“Good morning, endowed child,” the servant greeted in a monotone politeness. “I take that you had a pleasant sleep?”

The girl wheezed out another winded sound. Her gaze frantically turned to her surroundings, realising she wasn’t inside a cell, but in a room far too luxurious of her class. Blankets made from the finest Dilla silk, a small heating hole at the centre of the floor. The walls were bare without any tapestries; a small table and chair situated at a corner next to an empty bath basin; all finished with a skylight at the ceiling that brightened the entire room.

“King Parawin asked that you are to be taken care of until you are well fed,” the servant explained. “Within the next two seasons, you will undergo some training and replenishment until you are served fit to his majesty.”

It was almost impossible to grasp what was happening.

_The king? Sending his servant to take care of me?_

Everything about this felt very wrong for Telise, especially since this was an order from the man who let his mages loose to capture her and her fellow endowed. Despite her weary-worn body, she was enraged at the very idea of it.

In a hoarse whisper she said; “What does… a king…want… from a lowly endowed?”

“I cannot say,” the servant answered. “I am not to disclose his majesty’s plans as of yet.”

The endowed furrowed her brows. It was only then she realised the wounds from the countless slashes were covered in cotton armguards; held together with string-tied garter-sleeves. As for her clothes, she saw her fraying ethak and tunic replaced with a well-woven fabric. Telise then remembered the whispered horror stories she’s heard from the stones. Tales of unsuspecting victims who were lured with gifts and treated luxuriously before they were ravaged by their perpetrators.

Dubious thoughts began to boil over her before her stomach demanded her attention. A small snort escaped the servant girl before she headed over to the heating hole. At the centre of the heating hole was a large orange stone sitting beneath a tripod stand that held a large pot. A bowl of gruel-soup was being prepared before the servant girl returned to Telise’s side.

The endowed observed her surrounding once more, thinking about ways to escape this unknown place. If she could put her hands on the stone walls, then she’d have a better grasp on where she was and how to break out of it. Then once more, her stomach gurgled, urging her to focus on being fed as it growled and churned in anticipation.

_…I suppose it doesn’t hurt to take advantage of this opportunity._

The servant girl handed her the bowl of gruel, to which Telise abandoned all sense of pride and began to spoon the meal without hesitation. The fire in her belly quenched before it panged with a painful throb at her side. Yet despite this, she didn’t care. Compared to the bite of a dullen blade and the hot, permeating burn from the archmagi’s spells; a pain at her abdomen was as good as an ich. Compared to the old dilla fruit skins she was fed with in the cellar, a soft meal was more than welcomed.

Tears began to stream down without her volition.

 _It’s warm._ She sniffled.

When was the last time she had ever tasted something warm? Without words, the servant girl who had been standing by raised a strip of cloth, silently offering it for her to wipe her tears with. The gesture made the endowed girl angry and upset, knowing how these mages work.

_They’ll earn your sympathies; earn your trust. Then they’ll take your blood and use it for their own hideous ambitions._

She stared at the servant girl before she sheepishly took the fabric from her hands. Her own pride further wounded by the mere thought of accepting these small luxuries from a mage’s territory.

_They will pay. I swear by the oracle, they will pay._

Despite her vengeful thoughts, her stomach growled, demanding for a second helping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My priorities are out of wack as of late, jumping from one story to another. Doesn't help when sharing a writing braincell with my brother. When he writes, I get writer's block. When I'm writing, he gets it. XD I don't know why this always seems to happen.  
> The chapters will remain short until I get a proper rhythm of writing something more tangible, cause this story is half a warm-up, half-developing on the fly. There are key plot points, its just that I'm writing this half-blind with the lore in the corner.

**Author's Note:**

> If I may be blunt, tales that were set within this time period of Gildaar to me is more often than not, a love-hate situation. During most of my discussions with Joe, the reign of kings era is a topic we often like talking about, but are nervous at actually writing it. Logical and illogical questions often springs out of our heads whenever the mage question is discussed in our world-building sessions.  
> I've made four attempts at writing the era where we see things in a mage's perspective (this being the fourth). And at all four versions, Joe irked at the depressing levels of gore and blood and said he'd rather not take part of writing this kind of story. (understandable, I'm the grim writer between the two of us). The level of socio-politics that goes around the discussion of mages have always been a mammoth to write. And more often than not, I get scared of the prospects of making the main cast look like jerks and the antagonists heroes in a setting where the morally grey situation is brought up.
> 
> Anyway, that's enough rant for me. Feel free to criticise this piece, tear it to shreds, but by all that is good, please don't copy this work, or else.


End file.
